Long Distance Call
by LaLainaJ
Summary: Post 5x11. Caroline's been waking up for weeks, after dreams of Klaus, that get racier and racier. It's affecting her during the day, messing with her concentration. People are starting to notice, and her coping mechanisms aren't working out so well. Finally, she gets frustrated enough to call him and the conversation quickly becomes intimate...
1. Wake Up Tired

**Long Distance Call**

 **(Prompt from an Anon: klaroline + phone sex? sexting? Smut.)**

 **Part One: Wake Up Tired**

 _Her chair scrapes against the concrete as her hips shift and a man at a neighboring table glances over._

 _"Shhh, love," Klaus murmurs so quiet that only she can hear him. He strokes over the lace covering her center, his touch soft and driving her crazy, "You have to stay still if you don't want everyone to know what we're doing, hmm?"_

 _He appears perfectly relaxed, just as he had since they'd sat down. He had leaned over once the waiter left with their drink orders and asked her to spread her legs wide, to hook her feet around the chair's legs, before he'd slid his hand up her thigh. It had been a challenge, and he'd held her gaze as she'd considered it, his blue eyes sparking with lust and admiration once she'd done what he asked._

 _She stares down at her menu, keeping her face carefully blank, as his fingers push her soaked panties to the side…_

"Caroline. Caroline, wake up!"

Caroline sits up with a gasp, looking around wildly, her brain sluggish with the remnants of her dream. She's disappointed to realize that she's in her dorm room at Whitmore, and not at a table in her imagination's rendering of a cute little bistro in Paris.

But come on, who wouldn't be dismayed? Leaving aside the fact that she's uncomfortably aroused, her panties damp and nipples budded, aching for Klaus' touch, her dorm room is dull and colorless compared to the scene that had been playing in her dream.

Bonnie's staring down at her, her concern apparent and a healthy dollop of guilt hits Caroline. "Are you okay? You've been having trouble sleeping for weeks, maybe even months. If it's nightmares you can talk to me, you know?"

God, it really was a good thing Elena spent most of her nights away from the room. One tiny silver lining to her weird Damon dependency. Their other best friend's heightened senses would have been able to pick up on the fact that it wasn't _fear_ waking Caroline up at night. The thoughts that leave her sweat soaked and tangled in her sheets would be impossible to explain.

Caroline ruthlessly pushes aside her discomfort, ignoring the insistent pulsing between her thighs and the pounding of her heart. She forces a smile, for Bonnie's benefit, before sliding her legs to the edge of the bed, "I'm fine, Bon. Really. It's probably just the stress of finals and you know, everything. I'm sure it'll pass eventually. An extra blood bag and I'll be good to go."

Bonnie's clearly skeptical, watching Caroline throw on a sweater and flip flops, "Where are you going? It's 3AM."

"Just for a walk. Fresh air will be good for me. Go back to sleep, okay? I'll see you in the morning." Caroline grabs her keys and her phone, tossing a wave in Bonnie's direction, and lets herself out of the room.

Once the door's shut she squeezes her eyes closed, and leans back against the wall. Caroline holds her breath and listens carefully for Bonnie's movements, "Please, please go back to bed," she mutters. It's quiet for a second, then she hears the telltale rustling of bedsheets, the creaking of mattress springs. She smiles in relief. Bonnie wasn't going to follow, wasn't going to press.

A good thing, because Caroline isn't entirely certain she'd be able to stop herself from word vomitting her sexual frustrations all over Bonnie if she did.

'I've been having dirty sex dreams about Klaus for weeks and I always wake up right before I can get off' probably wasn't something Bonnie wanted to hear. Such a statement would, in fact, probably lead poor Bonnie to a search for some kind of witchy brain bleach spell.

Bonnie has finals too so Caroline thinks she should spare her friend the aggravation. As it is, with her own inability to focus on studying, Caroline's seriously considering a round of compulsion on her professors. Nothing too drastic, maybe just get them to bump her up a letter grade. Would that be so wrong? It's not like she didn't _know_ the material, she's just having a tough time getting it to stick in her brain.

The only thoughts that seem to find purchase these days are the ones that relate to the increasingly racy dreams she's been having about Klaus.

Caroline had been convinced that the dreams would fade, as they had the two other times she'd taken Klaus' blood. She'd surmised it was one of the effects of bloodsharing that Stefan had kind of glossed over in his Vampiring 101 lessons after she'd turned.

Klaus was her only frame of reference and both times she'd drunk from him she'd felt a little more alive for a few days afterwards. Nothing drastic, she'd just had more energy, had noticed that her senses were heightened and had done her best to ignore her raging libido. She'd had privacy, in the past, thanks to her mother's odd hours. She's been able to to deal with her lustful feelings in peace, though the guilt of touching herself and coming with Klaus' face in her mind had been intense.

This time there's no guilt – she'd _chosen_ to sleep with Klaus and in doing so had accepted that it was only _her_ business - but also not a lot of relief. She adamantly refused to give in to the urge to masturbate, with Bonnie scant feet away, and there were only so many late night showers a girl could take until people began to get suspicious.

This isn't the first time Caroline's slipped out in the wee hours, nor is it the first time she's headed to the forest planning to sprint until she was just a little bit tired. She's optimistic every time she makes the trek, hoping she'll calm down enough to be able to sleep until morning

Her attempts to sublimate via physical activity have yet to work but Caroline Forbes isn't a quitter.

She'd just really, _really_ , like to know why this _thing_ wasn't fading.

She'd _almost_ worked up the courage to ask Stefan. She's attempted to broach the subject of her insomnia and see if he knew of any reason why this could be happening to her. Caroline had never been able to force the words out, internally cringing in anticipation of just how awkward they would make things.

The dreams had started off simply. Her subconscious had brought her back to the afternoon (and evening) she and Klaus had spent together, had treated her to a vivid play by play. Not exactly ideal but, since she'd already lived it, she'd known what to expect. Caroline probably could have handled _those_ dreams.

Then the content had shifted, her subconscious getting creative. She'd stopped dreaming of what _had_ happened and started fantasizing about what _could_ have happened.

Klaus whirling her out of the ballroom the first night they'd danced and peeling the dress he'd given her off of her body with his teeth. Him bending her over a pool table at the bar. Klaus on his knees, her thighs over his shoulders, on the desk in Professor Shane's office. Her riding him on the couch in his mansion, the day Silas had gotten into his head, using his uncharacteristic weakness to her advantage and slapping his hands away when he tried to touch her. His cock deep inside her, her back to his chest, in the backseat of his giant SUV after graduation, while he whispered dirty words in her ear.

Her brain had taken every moment they'd ever spent together and spun different endings. Hot, filthy ones that left Caroline aroused and unable to focus.

Caroline's certain that she's not going to be able to pass the bench outside The Mystic Grill without blushing anytime soon.

Just as she'd gotten used to _those_ thoughts, the dreams had shifted again.

To situations they'd never been in, places Caroline could only imagine. Doing things that she'd never expressed an interest in outside of the privacy of her own mind.

Seriously. Klaus fingering her in public was _tame_ compared to some of the other scenarios that had played out in Caroline's mind.

Shaking herself and letting out a frustrated groan Caroline reaches out and rips a thick branch off of a tree. She flings it away with great force, shouting out her frustration into the cool evening air. The hunk of wood cracks in half when it hits another tree, the pieces thumping to the ground.

Letting her thoughts wander down those paths would not be helpful. Not at all. She's supposed to be forgetting, clearing her mind. _Not_ filling it with more sexy-hot Klaus fantasies.

Caroline slips her feet out of her shoes, because experience has taught her that flip flops are a bitch to run in, takes a deep (hopefully cleansing!) breath, before she flashes off into the deepest parts of the forest.

Maybe this time she'll be able to focus on the movements of her body, the burn of exertion, and ignore her whirling thoughts.

* * *

 _She pulls hard but the silk ribbons (blue, because he likes the color against her skin) around her wrists_ don't _give. Klaus' laugh is rich with amusement, the sound muffled against her back, "Something you wanted, love?"_

 _He punctuated the question with an innocent kiss to her shoulder, and a not so innocent swirl of his index finger over her clit._

 _Her thighs tense instinctively, trying to trap his hand, needing more pressure, but they're bound to the bottom posts of the bed, so it's a futile attempt._

 _Caroline bites her lip, rubs her breasts into the mattress below her, but the silk of the sheets offers too little friction on her aching nipples._

 _Klaus levers himself up, abandoning the slow kisses he's been laying down her spine, to lay down next to her, his face inches from hers on the pillow, leaving the hand between her legs where it is, resting against her pussy but not actually touching her._

 _She has no idea how much time has passed, how long he's tormented her with light brushes, quietly voiced praises, and taunts about all the ways he plans to make her come._

 _Her body's burning, muscles pulled taut, skin damp with a sheen of sweat. Caroline is very close to begging for more._

 _Klaus eases a finger inside of her, slowly drags it out, the glide audible given how wet she is. Caroline's back arches and a moan escapes. Klaus pulls his hand away, resting it on her ass. Caroline whimpers, pressing back as much as she is able._

 _Klaus smooths her hair from her face, brushes his mouth against hers tenderly, before he pulls back and waits for her eyes to focus on him._

 _"If you want something, Caroline, you have to ask for it…"_

It's an alarm that rouses her this time, and Caroline's hand shoots out, grabbing her phone. She narrowly manages to resist flinging it across the room. As temporarily satisfying as that would be she'd be pissed when she had to shell out the money to replace it.

Caroline glances around the room, noting Bonnie's absence. She vaguely remembers something about an early meet up for a group project but all that really matters is that she's blessedly alone.

She only hesitates for about three seconds, before she's kicking off her pajama bottoms and getting her knees under her. She shoves her face into a pillow, not sure who's milling about and knowing it's unlikely that this will be quiet.

With two fingers curling inside of her pussy, and two more rubbing her clit, it's a fast climb to a shattering orgasm. Her groans muffled in the cotton under her as her hips roll to meet her motions, her thighs shaking as her inner muscles clench around her too slim digits.

She finishes with a long, drawn out moan, a sound that she refuses to recognize as a name, letting her knees slip down until she's once more on her stomach, flat against the bed.

A fleeting thought from the dream - of Klaus shoving a pillow under her hips as he dragged his tongue up the back of her thigh - flickers through her mind and a new ripple of arousal heats her insides.

Caroline presses her lips together to hold back the stream of curses that wants to emerge even as she flips onto her back and brings a hand up to palm her breast.

It's going to be a long day.

* * *

 _The feathery touch of the sable brush, the coolness of the paint as it's stroked over her nipple has Caroline's eyes fluttering shut, her fists clenching at her sides._

 _When they open again, Klaus is smiling down at her, "Cold, love? Sorry about that," he says innocently, except he doesn't sound the least bit apologetic._

 _He's kneeling next to her, palette in hand, studying her with an intensity that makes it difficult not to squirm._

 _His gaze is heated as it sweeps down her body, "This might be my masterpiece, sweetheart, and I've barely even begun."_

 _Caroline rolls her eyes at that, the lack of modestly was entirely expected, and they lapse into silence as he works his way down her body. Her stomach tightens under the strokes of his brush and she struggles not to moan._

 _She lets out a gasp, feeling the paint trail over her pubic bone, bites back a whimper when Klaus' breath brushes her skin even lower._

 _Setting aside the brush and palette, Klaus lowers his mouth. He presses a kiss to her folds that makes her shake. She has to fight the urge to move as his eyes track up her body, lit with mischief. "Let's play a game. I'm going to taste you, Caroline. But if you smudge the paint, I won't let you come. Do you think you can handle that?"_

 _His fingers spread her wide and his tongue darts out, flicking over her clit rapidly._

 _Caroline isn't sure she'll be able to win this game. At all. But she wants him to keep going, can't imagine asking him to stop. She nods mutely and Klaus' tongue delves deeper, the point of it massaging her clit._

 _She's kind of proud that she manages not to arch up into his mouth._

 _"Good girl," Klaus croons against her soaked flesh. "Now I need you to spread your legs wider for me."_

Caroline's eyes fly open staring blankly upwards. _Not_ up at the gorgeous crown mouldings she remembers from Klaus' studio but at her plain boring dorm room ceiling.

"Damn it!" she exclaims, practically vibrating with frustration. She freezes, listening carefully, plotting how to cover up her outburst. Then she remembers that she's alone. Bonnie's off for the weekend with Jeremy and Elena is glued to Damon's side as per usual.

Before she can reconsider what she's about to do Caroline's sitting up in bed, grabbing her phone and punching in her passcode. Flinging the covers away she gets up. A couple of taps on the screen and she was listening to it ring.

Several agonizing moments pass and Caroline nearly hangs up. She frantically paces the length of her dorm room, scarcely breathing. Her hand is shaking and it's only the knowledge that caller I.D. was a thing that stops her from chickening out. She's certain that he would just call her back and that was not an explanation that Caroline wanted to make. When Klaus answers his voice is hoarse with sleep, "Hello? Caroline?"

"What did you _do_ to me?" Caroline demands. "Is this some freaky Original Hybrid power? Are you long distance sex dreaming me somehow? Because that is not cool. Not cool at all."

There are several seconds of silence from Klaus' side, and he has the gall to sound amused when he replies, "I'm afraid that's just a bit beyond the scope of my abilities. Though I am _most_ intrigued."

"It's not funny, Klaus! I haven't slept through the night since _before_ you were here. Tired Caroline equals cranky Caroline equals everybody hates Caroline. It _has_ to be your fault."

"I did nothing," he snaps. "I made you a promise and I've kept it. So if that's all, if there's no dire emergency, I'd really like to get back to sleep."

He's pissed, his words fast and clipped and Caroline finds her own anger deflating. She sits back on the bed, "What is _wrong_ with me?" she grumbles.

Klaus makes a noise, clearly derisive, "Perhaps it's not quite so easy to maintain that tightly leashed control of yours, to pretend that you're happy playing at being mundane, once you've given into your wants."

There's a ring of truth to his words. Caroline's not blind to the content of the fantasies her mind had conjured, to the realization that they'd often involved a surrender on her part. She sighs, long and defeated, "Right. Sorry to bother you."

Klaus doesn't reply, but she can hear him breathing. Now that he's there she doesn't want him to hang up.

"So…" she begins, wracking her brain for a conversation starter, something that will make him stay on the line.

"Tell me about the dreams, Caroline." It's not a question, the way he phrases it. It's an order, no less compelling for how softly it's made.

It lingers between them as he waits patiently for her reply, "Which one?" Caroline asks finally, in a rush, before she can lose her nerve.

"Let's start with the one that woke you up just now. The one that frustrated you so intensely that you had to call me."

"You were painting me," Caroline tells him.

He hums in approval, and Caroline closes her eyes, lets the sound wash over her, "Something I've done often, since I left you." She hears him moving, and then her phone vibrates in her hand. He's texted her a picture of a canvas. It's her face, eyes heavy lidded with want, hair bright against green grass, a smile curving her lips. It's beautiful and it brings the memories rushing back, how exhilarating it had been to give into the things she felt for him. She'd taken a leap then. What's one more now?

Caroline relaxes back, plumping her pillows under her head. Her tone's deliberately different when she speaks again, lower and more seductive, "Not quite like that. You were painting my skin."

Klaus' inhale is sharp, and Caroline grins to herself, "Was I?" he prompts, his desire to hear more evident.

Is she really doing this? Caroline almost can't believe it, even as she lets her hand drop down to slide over the skin of her stomach left bare between her sleep shorts and tank. "You were. It felt good in my head. And then…" Caroline trails off both to build his anticipation and shore up her courage.

"Tell me," Klaus' demand is quick and gruff.

Caroline hesitates, unsure of how to phrase it. She's never done much in the way of dirty talk, doesn't want to be bad at it.

"Did I touch you, Caroline? Did I play with your clit the way I've learned you like? Or did I use my mouth?"

Ugh. Of course he'd be good at this.

Her disgruntlement doesn't last long, because his words have her pressing her thighs together.

"The last one," Caroline tells him, hating the slight primness with which it comes out.

The amused noise that spills from him is throaty, and it ramps the heat building in her belly higher. She pushes her hand under her shorts, parting her legs to give herself room to explore. "I'm not surprised. I remember how _enthusiastic_ you were about that particular act."

She feels her face heat in embarrassment, "Shut up."

"You shouldn't feel shame, love. Not even a hint of it. I adored every moment of it, of you writhing against my tongue. They way your thighs twitched and the way you pulled at my hair. The way you pleaded for more. There's little I wouldn't do for another taste of you, Caroline. Perhaps in a more adventurous position, hmm? Would you like to kneel over me, lower yourself to meet my mouth? I think I'd like to look up at you, watch you tugging on your nipples with your head thrown back in pleasure."

Caroline can't stop herself from saying his name, or stop the little whine that colors the vowels.

"Where are you, Caroline?" he asks urgently.

She lets out a short, breathy laugh, "Pretty sure you're supposed to ask me what I'm wearing first."

"I don't care what you're wearing. I care that you're alone, so you can take off whatever that might be."

"I'm in my room at school," Caroline answers. "My roomies are back in Mystic Falls, loved up with their boyfriends."

"Excellent," Klaus drawls. "Now strip for me."

Caroline narrows her eyes, even though he can't see her. But she does it, setting the phone down and taking her time. She snaps a picture of her bare legs, shorts crumpled at the foot of her bed, and sends it to him.

He emits a quiet groan, "Do feel free to continue sending me photos, love."

"We'll see," Caroline demurs. She puts him on speaker, resting the phone next to her head. Her nipples have puckered, in the air conditioned chill of the room. Caroline licks her fingertips, and brings her hands down to roll the sensitive peaks. She lets out a soft sigh.

Klaus, of course, has no trouble picking it up. There's a hint of strain in his tone, "Are you touching yourself, Caroline?"

"Isn't that why you wanted me naked?" Caroline shoots back.

"Tell me where."

"My breasts."

"Are you imagining your hands are mine?"

"Yes," Caroline tells him, before she has time to wonder if she maybe should have lied.

"Good," Klaus growls.

"I think you should be naked too," Caroline blurts out. If they're doing this they might as well _really_ do this.

She hears him move, the slide of a zipper, and a faint clink that's probably his belt hitting the floor. "Where are you?" she asks, curious.

"My bedroom."

"Are you… alone?"

Klaus lets out an exasperated huff, "Caroline, do you really think I would be doing this with you if there was another person in my bed?"

Caroline snorts, "Not if you had any hope of ever doing it again. But," she stills her hands, "I meant are you alone in the house? The idea of Rebekah overhearing this is super creepy."

She can tell Klaus is trying not to laugh, "The rooms are spelled. We like our privacy."

"Oh. Smart," Caroline clears her throat, resumes toying with her nipples. Her mind drifts back to an earlier dream, "What does your bed look like?"

"Why?" Klaus asks knowingly, "Do you want your fantasies to be more accurate?"

Caroline finds she doesn't like the smugness and it makes her reckless, ""I just thought I should know if the frame is wood or metal so when I picture being tied to it…"

"Fuck, Caroline," Klaus bites out.

Caroline smiles, lets a hand drift down her belly again, "What? I thought you wanted to hear about my dreams? Should I stop?"

"Don't stop."

"I don't know if you've earned that one yet," Caroline muses, trying to sound casual. "It was really dirty," her voice breaks on the last word as her fingers part her folds, sliding down to gather her wetness.

"Tell me another, then. We can save that one for next time." He sounds so sure that there will be a next time. And as Caroline's back bows as she begins circling her clit, her knees spread wide, she can't bring herself to argue.

She searches for something to say, but draws a blank, as her fingers rub faster, her body moving with her hand, chasing the pleasure that's coiling inside of her, "Tell me one of yours," she gasps.

"Only one?" Klaus makes a considering noise, like he's giving the question serious thought, and Caroline really needs him to keep talking, "I have hundreds, love. Maybe even thousands. But I think it's only fair if I save the more… exotic ones. Since you did."

"Klaus," she moans. "Since when do you believe in fair?"

"Whenever it suits me." He pauses and Caroline listens carefully, thinks she can just make out the sound of skin on skin. His breathing hitches, and then he's talking again, "I have several where I paint you. Properly, on a canvas. You're naked, of course, and I've already had you once, so you're flushed and lovely and your thighs are marked with our cum. Spread out on a bed. All that pretty pale skin on display. You wear only jewels. Sapphires. Ropes and ropes of them, spilling over your breasts. Later, when I fuck you again, I roll them over your tight little nipples until they're aching and you drag my mouth to them, begging for my teeth."

Caroline closes her eyes, pictures what he's describing. Imagines laying there, for hours, while he painstakingly commits her form to canvas.

It would be torturous, she's sure, in the best possible way.

"Let's see, what else is there? I like to think about your lips on my cock. Maybe in the shower? Water beading on your skin as you touch yourself , make yourself moan, while you suck me."

A whimper escapes Caroline, her fingers rubbing her clit harder, as her other hand abandons her breast to sink inside her body, twisting on each downstroke.

"I want to see you feed, your eyes red and fangs out. I expect you're tidy, but not when I watch. I want to lick the blood you spill from your throat, follow it down the curves of your breasts. I want to suck your clit, get the taste of your arousal in my mouth, and then sink my teeth into the artery of your thigh while you drink from my wrist."

"Klaus…" It's a moan, drawn out and needy. Caroline adds another finger to the ones working inside of her, body thrashing against her bed, "More. I'm almost…"

His words come faster, grow gravely, "I think about fucking you from behind, high above a crowd. You're bent over a railing with your skirt flipped up as you take my cock, where anyone can look up and see what we're doing. I think you'd like the thrill of it, that I'd barely have to touch you to get you wet enough for me."

It brings her back to the dream she'd had about Paris, and Caroline comes hard, bringing her arm up to muffle her shout.

She hears Klaus follow her, letting out a soft groan of release, a sound she's familiar with from their time in the woods. It sends another pulse through her, prolonging the aftershocks.

Her heart's racing, her breathing labored, and she's glad that, from the sounds of it, she's not alone.

She wipes one shaky hand on her bedspread, before picking up her phone, stammering out, "That was…" Words and thoughts flit through her mind, but none seem adequately descriptive.

Hot. Intense. Amazing.

Caroline kind of wants to do it again. Immediately.

"A mistake, I'm guessing?" Klaus' reply is bitter, almost a snarl.

Caroline's quiet as she thinks about it. She can't blame him for thinking she might have regrets but she feels none. "No," she tells him firmly, "Not a mistake. Maybe not smart, because I'm probably going to be adding your fantasies to my dreams now. And I'm totally going to wonder what you meant by exotic. I think that's going to make sleeping even harder."

He laughs softly, and Caroline finds herself smiling. "Well, love. If you ever need assistance again, to work out any lingering tension I'm just a phone call away.

He lets the offer sit between them though Caroline does not miss the note of hope he lets her hear.

She finds herself smiling, "I have your number."


	2. Marching Through Your Head

**Notes** : And here's the second part. Big thanks to Sophie, Ravyn and Angie for the help!

 **Part Two: Marching Through Your Head**

"Where were you in 1617?"

She skips the 'Hello' and dives right in. After all the things they've said over the phone lately pleasantries don't seem necessary.

There's a long pause on the other end, and Caroline hears Klaus murmur to someone that he'll be right back. The background noise grows fainter and then nearly disappears. "Caroline?" Klaus asks, sounding puzzled. "It's two in the afternoon, love. As much as I enjoy our… chats, I'm afraid you've called at an inopportune time."

Caroline blinks for a second then sits up, pushing her book away. "Oh, sorry. I know you're busy. I was just reading this book from the supplemental list for one of my classes. I was wondering about something and I thought…" she trails off, before she can really start to ramble.

Truthfully she'd dialed his number before she'd even thought about it.

She figured the instinct was understandable considering just how often she called Klaus these days.

In the beginning Caroline had been strict with herself. Waking up the next morning, feeling more rested than she had in ages, she'd tried to tell herself that phone sex with Klaus was a one-time event. It had been brought on by her insomnia, was a momentary lapse. One that she absolutely would not be repeating. She'd resolved to focus on school, and other things, and shove thoughts of Klaus far, _far_ away.

Yeah, right.

The first of those other things? Sex. She was a vampire, dry spells were dangerous, and probably the whole reason her brain had been taking detours that led back to Klaus. She'd made an attempt to take care of the problem but, all her lofty goals, Caroline hadn't had much luck in the romance department. Two days after she'd talked to Klaus she'd gone home with a guy she'd met in the library when he'd suggested they work off some tension to improve their studying. That encounter had left her only marginally satisfied, and even then only been because of her own efforts.

And imagination. She'd climbed on top, closed her eyes, and cycled through some of her very favorite racy Klaus-fantasies to push her over the edge.

Talk about counterintuitive.

It had been sheer luck that she'd managed not to say Klaus' name when she'd come.

After gathering her clothes and high tailing it back to her dorm Caroline had been forced to admit to herself that it was pretty unlikely that she'd be able to resist repeating what she and Klaus had done. Especially since he'd been clear that he'd welcome her call.

She'd made herself wait. Told herself that she had willpower.

A whole ten days went by (and more than a few sleepless nights) before she'd contacted Klaus again.

Caroline had kind of been hoping that it wouldn't be as good a second time.

Sue her, she was an optimist.

If anything, it had been _better_. Klaus had clearly put a lot of thought into it, talking her through a very detailed fantasy, teasing her until her skin had been slick to the touch and her muscles pulled tight, until he'd urged her, his voice rough, to come for him. She'd let go with a cry and shivered through one hell of an orgasm while listening to him breathe raggedly.

"Okay," she'd panted, when she could talk again, "you're really good at this."

Klaus had laughed softly, "I've had a lot of time to ponder all the ways I want to touch you, all the things I wish to make you feel. And precious few hours to practice."

She'd cleared her throat, forced herself to sit up, and told Klaus goodnight, ignoring the slight smugness with which he'd replied, "I'll talk to you soon, Caroline."

Maybe he'd earned the right to be a little pleased with himself. Caroline's legs had still been shaky as she'd gathered up her shower kit.

She'd turned the shower up extra hot, shampooed, conditioned, lathered, and told herself that this thing with Klaus was fine. It wasn't hurting anyone, right? She was an adult, no longer obligated to explain what she did with her free time. So maybe calling Klaus could be a thing she did. Occasionally.

In secret, just for her.

She'd lasted a week before making another call.

Then five days.

Since moving home for the summer she'd bumped it up to did it up to twice a week. Her mother's erratic hours and the increased privacy made it easier and the calls got longer. At some point they'd started to talk, about non-sexy topics, after they were finished. They discussed Klaus' dealings in New Orleans (whatever mysterious problem that had drawn him there had been dealt with and the city apparently was once again firmly under his control), her summer job and fall classes, a painting he was working on, a reality show she was obsessed with that Klaus couldn't seem to wrap his head around (no matter how much she explained why it was amazing).

She felt weirdly comfortable, having those conversations with Klaus, even though Caroline was always naked when they spoke.

Not something she wanted to ponder too deeply.

Calling him in the middle of the afternoon, fully clothed and not the least bit interested in sex, just because she wanted his perspective? This was totally new, totally scary, territory.

Caroline wonders if she can hang up and just pretend it never happened.

Only for a moment before she decided that would be cowardly.

"I don't mind," Klaus assures her. "But I am in the middle of something. You could call me back tonight, if you'd like?"

"Or you could call me when you're done?" Caroline offers. "I'm meeting up with some work friends later and I don't know when I'll be home. Or I guess I could just Google. But sometimes Google lies."

"You want me to call you?" Klaus repeats slowly.

Caroline feels her face scrunch up in confusion, "Uh, yeah? If you want to, obviously." It clicks suddenly, why he's acting so strangely, "Wait, Klaus, did you think you couldn't call me?" She feels like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. He's never been the one to make the call.

"I believe I promised not to contact you, sweetheart. And I do try to keep my promises. To you."

She ignores the little hint of flirt there, because she really hadn't called for _that_ , "I've called you what, like twenty times now?"

"Twenty three," Klaus corrects.

Caroline rolls her eyes, because of course he'd been keeping count. "Exactly. Your promise is null and void."

"Is it, now? All of it?"

"I mean, I'd rather you didn't come back to Mystic Falls. You and my friends? There's never going to be a time where that's easy. Not in this century, at least."

"Ah, so I am your dirty little secret, then?" Klaus murmurs, a mocking edge to the words.

"Secret, yes. Dirty, sometimes, but don't pretend like you don't enjoy that. But I'm not hiding anything because I'm ashamed of this. I'm over sacrificing things that make me happy for other people. It's never gotten me anywhere before."

He makes a noise, not quite a word, both amused and skeptical.

Caroline huffs, growing annoyed, "Look, there's no motive here. And frankly I am super offended that you think I'm using you to get off."

"Weren't you?" Klaus counters knowingly, "at least at the start?"

"No!" she denies. "I never expected what happened to happen. And anyway, if you thought I was using you, why'd you let me?"

This time the laugh is pure mirth, low and rich, "For the same reasons I always did. Surely you never thought you were fooling me when your friends sent you to toy with me for their gain?"

"Yeah," Caroline drawls. "I've never been entirely clear on that, if I'm being totally honest."

She sure he's smirking when he replies, that one that always made her itch to find some way to wipe it off. "It's simple, love. I am, in my heart of hearts, an opportunist. Each time you tried to exploit my fondness for you, to get under my skin, you offered me a golden opportunity to slip my way under yours."

She sucks in a breath at the bold statement. Wants to protest, wants to bite out an emphatic 'You wish!' but he's not entirely wrong.

And it's only gotten worse. She has no idea what to call this little routine they've settled into. Phone friends with benefits, maybe? If they're going to keep doing it (and Caroline can't pretend like their calls aren't usually the highlight of her day) it's only fair if it runs both ways. She lets him know that with her next words, "I'll let you go so you can continue doing your evil overlord song and dance. But call me back if you're done crushing your enemies before six."

Klaus doesn't comment on her quick subject change, and Caroline's grateful. He hums affirmatively before saying, "I'll speak to you later, Caroline," and hanging up.

Caroline tries to get back to her reading but concentrating proves difficult, her eyes continuously darting to her phone.

Kind of proving Klaus' point with the 'under your skin' thing.

* * *

She bites her lip nervously, eyeing herself critically in the mirror while smoothing a hand down her stomach. The semester had only started last week, so her room is clutter free (not that she was messy. Ever). Her bed, covered in her nicest sheets, is visible behind her. Caroline had gone a little nuts at IKEA, the appeal of decorating her private dorm room too much to resist. She loves Elena and Bonnie, but their tastes don't always mesh.

The folding three-way mirror hadn't been on her list, but it _had_ been on sale, so she'd picked it up anyway. Bonnie had shaken her head and muttered something rueful about how it was going to take Caroline even longer to get ready every morning.

Someone remembered the movie montage outfit change routines they'd done at sleepovers.

Bonnie, thankfully, would never in a million years had guessed the mirror's true purpose, the naughty idea brewing in the back of Caroline's mind, when she'd painstakingly written down the weird Swedish name.

She'd only ever sent Klaus the one photo and, while he'd encouraged her to send more, he'd never explicitly asked after the first time.

She thought photos could be a lot of fun.

She's read cautionary articles about nudes but Caroline knows Klaus isn't the kind of guy who'd post the pictures on the internet behind her back. Anything she sent him would be for his eyes only. So why not experiment? Supposedly, that was the whole point of college, right?

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:43 PM]:** _Are you busy?_

 **Klaus [Saturday 9:45 PM]:** _Not especially. It's early._

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:46 PM]:** _Are you alone?_

 **Klaus [Saturday 9:50 PM]:** _I am now._

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:51 PM]:** _Do you want to try something new?_

 **Klaus [Saturday 9:51 PM]:** _With you?_ _Always._

Caroline spins, takes the photo over her shoulder, naked except for a black lace thong and high heels, curls wild and tumbling down her back.

She allows herself one quick peek at how it had turned out (otherwise she'll be here for hours, overanalyzing and minutely shifting position), before she presses send.

She doesn't breathe until her phone rings. But to be fair, Klaus' response doesn't take more than thirty seconds.

She rejects the call because she wants this to play out a certain way and she's well aware of the things Klaus' voice does to her, how persuasive he can be.

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:52 PM]:** _The new thing is sexting. Still want to play? Or do I need to define it, since it probably wasn't something people did via telegram. Or smoke signals._

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:52 PM]:** _Or carrier pigeons._

 **Klaus [Saturday 9:53 PM]:** _I'm sure I'll catch on. Though I thank you for your concern._

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:54 PM]:** _You're welcome._

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:54 PM]:** _You can call me later. Eventually I'm going to need both my hands…_

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:55 PM]:** _But for now, here's a hint: quid pro quo._

Klaus responds with a snap of his bed.

 **Klaus [Saturday 9:56 PM]:** _To enrich your fantasies, love._

Caroline scoffs, can almost _hear_ him saying it, smugly amused and oh so pleased with himself. She notes absently that his bed frame looks sturdy. If Klaus is thinking she'll send him anything more provocative, without him showing a little skin, he's going to be disappointed. One the one hand, she's pretty certain that Klaus has never even considered taking a selfie in his life. On the other, she totally hadn't been kidding about the quid pro quo. So what if people seemed to think men were more visual than women? Caroline wasn't shy about enjoying a little eye candy and Klaus wasn't unaware of his own appeal.

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:57 PM]:** _Nice try. Maybe I should put something back on? If you're not into this…_

A picture comes through a few moments later. Klaus' sitting on his bed, his bare torso in the frame and his face angled away, the edge of his stubbled jaw just visible. She studies the taut skin of his throat, remembers how his pulse had pounded against her tongue just before she'd bitten him.

 **Caroline [Saturday 9:58 PM]:** _That's more like it. So, a reward. What do you want to see?_

 **Klaus [Saturday 9:58 PM]:** _The knickers. Take them off._

Caroline turns to the side and slides her panties off, taking a photo as she does it. It's of her hand on her skin, under the lace, the lower curve of her breast hinted along the top of the frame.

She sends the photo along with a request of her own.

 **Caroline [Saturday 10:01 PM]:** _Your jeans._

She should have been more specific because he sends her a photo of them, discarded on a dark wood floor. Maybe a taunt will be more effective.

 **Caroline [Saturday 10:02 PM]:** _Never pegged you for shy, Klaus._

 **Klaus [Saturday 10:03 PM]:** _Just getting more comfortable._

Another picture follows, of Klaus sprawled out on his gigantic bed. His hand rests on his abs, just above the waistband of his boxer briefs, his cock hard behind the black fabric.

Caroline sits on her bed, crosses her legs and arches her back. One hand toys with a nipple, while the other takes the photo, sends it, and types out a message.

 **Caroline [Saturday 10:05 PM]:** _I think I'm going to need my hands, now._

Her phone rings immediately. Caroline takes her time, kicking off her shoes, arranging her pillows behind her and leaning back before answering. She can still see herself in the mirror, and she brings her knees up, parting her thighs and laying a hand over herself to obscure how wet she is. She takes one more photo and sends it to Klaus before answering, putting the phone on speaker.

"Hello?" Caroline asks, only to be greeted by silence.

She assumes that means Klaus has received her final pic. She presses her lips together to hold in a laugh. "So, how do we feel about sexting?" she wonders innocently.

"I think I could grow exceedingly fond of it," Klaus replies. "Where are your roommates? That room looks rather small."

"Elena and I might have arranged for us all to have singles this year," Caroline explains. "She's decided to do pre-med and doesn't have time to drive back to Mystic Falls a ton. And, since I have no desire to have Damon in my room constantly…"

"Who would?"

Caroline laughs softly, "Just Elena, I think. And honestly I kind of like having my own space. Only child, you know. Sharing a room wasn't easy."

"There is something to be said for privacy," Klaus muses. "I like what you've done with the place, love. Is the mirror new?"

There's something knowing in his question, something that makes Caroline's pulse pick up.

"How'd you know?"

"Call it a hunch. Or rather, an educated guess, based on what I've learned of your… preferences."

"Oh?" Caroline prompts him.

"I think you like to watch. And, even more, I think you like to _be_ watched."

She feels herself flush, watches her skin turn pink in the mirror.

"Send me another picture," Klaus urges softly.

Caroline fiddles with the phone, flipping the camera, so it's just her face. Her color high, her eyes bright. Hair mussed from where it's pressed against the pillows, her lower lip red from being bitten.

Klaus hums appreciatively, "So lovely, Caroline. Are you comfortable?"

She nods and then rolls her eyes because he can't see her. This time. Maybe she could look into Skype or something. Caroline clears her throat and answers, "Yes."

"Good," he murmurs. His voice drops lower, "Are you wet for me?"

Caroline swallows hard at the blunt question, her thighs pressing together as a dull ache begins to build.

"It's something I don't think I'll ever forget, you know," Klaus continues. "What it felt like to touch you for the first time. How smooth your skin was, the way your nipple pebbled under my tongue. The way your hips jerked when I first brushed against your slit."

"Klaus," Caroline breathes.

"Do it now, for me. Just a fingertip. Gently."

With a shaky inhale, Caroline lets her hand drop, relaxes her legs so she can reach her folds. She remembers how he'd done it, teasingly, how he'd groaned at the hint of slickness he'd found, his forehead pressed to hers. She watches herself in the mirror, wondering if this is what she'd looked like that day.

Impulsively, she sends him another picture. The idea of him seeing her, like this, really did turn her on.

A rough noise escapes him, and she hears him shifting, thinks he's probably discarded his underwear. "If I was there," Klaus tells her, "I'd use my fingers, first. Thighs wide, love. Spread yourself. Look in the mirror and see how incredible you look when you're aroused."

Caroline slouches down, lets her knees fall open, and does what he asks, eyes on the mirror, focused between her thighs. "I'd use my tongue," Klaus rumbles, "to tease your clit."

Caroline lets out a soft whine, when she brings her other hand down, to trace a gentle circle over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her head tips back, and her hips rock, chasing the motions, but she keeps watching herself through heavy lidded eyes.

"I wish I could see you," Klaus says. "I'd start soft, until you couldn't take it anymore. Until those sweet little noises you make were spilling from your lips. You threw a leg over my shoulder, remember? Tried to pull yourself up, to grind against my mouth, as your hands tore into the ground."

He'd gone slowly, that day in the woods, after the first time against the tree. Caroline had been frantic, so aware that they'd only had a few moments to steal. She'd wanted as much of him as she could get. But Klaus had refused to be rushed. He'd tasted her languidly, all covetous gazes and savoring moans, never giving her quite what she'd needed, until she'd bent to his will in hopes of getting a little relief.

"I'd ease a finger inside of you, hold still to feel your body clench, as you try to pull me deeper. I'd pull out, circle your entrance, and then add another." Caroline's been mindlessly following his directions, and she lets out a moan, sinking her fingers inside of herself.

"How does it feel, love?"

"Good," Caroline sighs, withdrawing and pushing back in, her thighs beginning to shake, "Are you touching yourself, Klaus? Is your hand around your cock? Are you squeezing, imagining it's my pussy?"

She's never been so forward, has never said that word aloud, and Klaus' breath hitches when he answers, "Yes, though it's a pale imitation of how incredible you felt. Slick and tight and perfect."

"I want to see," she demands boldly.

Her phone buzzes, and she wipes her hand on the sheets before she grabs it, mouth dropping open at the image of his big hand wrapped around his cock, precum leaking from the tip. Another stab of need lands low in her belly, making her squirm as she rubs her palm against her clit.

"Mmm," Caroline moans, letting the phone drop. "My fingers aren't nearly as good as yours."

His voice grows even more gravelly, "I know, sweetheart. Are you watching? Use your other hand. I'd suck on your clit, but I want you to pinch it. Get your fingers wet and roll it between them."

She does what he's asking, her hands moving in tandem, shocks of pleasure coursing through her body.

"Are you close, Caroline? Let me hear you come."

Caroline makes a noise, half-whimper, half his name, and her toes digging into the mattress. She crooks her fingers, reaching for that spot he'd found so effortlessly, and it's just enough to send her crashing over the edge, her bed shaking with the force of her climax, a rough groan torn from her throat.

He's quieter, all heavy breaths and rustling sheets, a faint, reverent gasp of her name.

It's immensely satisfying, Caroline can't lie.

They breathe together, for a few minutes, and Caroline stretches, lets out a contented hum, her body feeling pleasantly light.

"Big fan of this game," she says, and then clears her throat, to push down the hoarseness.

Klaus lets out an amused chuckle, "It was your invention so I'm not surprised."

"Give yourself some credit," Caroline teases.

He's quiet for a long minute before he makes a request, "Send me another picture."

She hesitates because this somehow feels more intimate than it had before. Still, the softness with which he'd asked, with a note of what she might even call yearning, has her groping for her phone. Caroline lies down on her stomach and turns her face to the mirror. She snaps the photo and sends it without a glance, not sure she'd be able to do it otherwise.

Caroline closes her eyes, considers going to sleep. "What are your plans for tonight?" she asks curiously.

"A king's job is never done," Klaus remarks lightly, "and New Orleans comes alive at night."

"So you've said."

"And offered to show you," Klaus replies pointedly.

It doesn't scare her like it had when she'd first heard his voicemail. Maybe that's why she says, "Someday."

Maybe that's why she means it.

* * *

She and Elena are pleasantly buzzed, in the giggly drunk stage, shushing each other and stumbling into the walls. They'd already dropped Bonnie off and tucked her into bed but Elena had insisted that since it was Caroline's birthday she deserved to be walked to her door.

It had been a good night. They'd dressed up, had great food. Caroline and Elena had packed away an impressive number of margaritas (supplemented by sips from flasks because Caroline had been determined to get good and drunk, vampire or not). Bonnie had indulged in a few and they'd danced and laughed and forgotten their problems. Talk of supernatural danger and boyfriend drama had been minimal.

It might just go down in history as one of Caroline's best birthdays ever.

Elena almost passes Caroline's door but Caroline pulls her back while she digs into her purse for her keys. Elena's fingers reach out to trace the number nine next to the frame, "Huh," she mutters, "I thought it was farther."

"Nope. 409. That's me." After a brief struggle with the lock (it was sticky, and she'd been more than tempted to just give it a little wrist and break the damn thing so they'd replace it) Caroline pushes the door open. And promptly drops everything that had been in her hands.

Caroline groans because _of course_ the contents of her purse had spilled out. Couldn't the universe just give her one good day?

Elena bends to help her, swaying even though she's wearing flats. Caroline waves her away, "No, it's fine. If you fall you'll never get up and I have no desire to talk to Damon to get him to come and get you."

Elena merely rolls her eyes. It's what she always does these days when Caroline makes her distaste for Damon known. Elena's long since stopped commenting, and Caroline has managed to tone down her digs. As much as she's able.

She'll never, _ever_ , like Damon.

Elena wanders into Caroline's room, flicking on the light, and Caroline hastily shoves her things back into her clutch before heaving herself up and following. She kicks off her shoes and shrugs out of her jacket, glancing over at Elena who's by her desk.

"What is this?" Elena asks as she turns around, holding up a white card and a black velvet pouch.

Caroline freezes, recognizing the handwriting.

 _Happy Birthday, Caroline._

 _Perhaps, someday, dreams will come true._

 _Fondly, Klaus._

Caroline closes her eyes, musters a smile, and then carefully hangs up her jacket. "It looks like a birthday gift," she says as casually as she can.

She so doesn't want to do this right now. Or ever, really.

Elena scoffs, her eyes narrowing in anger, jerky fingers untying the bag and tipping its contents onto her palm. Which was kind of rude, Caroline thought. Elena wasn't even an only child so she should totally know better than to open someone else's presents, shouldn't she?

Elena's eyes widen, her jaw going slack. Caroline moves closer, her curiosity piqued, peering down at Elena's hand. At the gleaming pile of sapphires and diamonds puddled in her palm.

She sucks in a breath because they're gorgeous. And because she's hit with the image from the fantasy Klaus had imparted.

Writhing on his lap, leaning back to chase the perfect angle, gripping his shoulders to keep her balance, as he teases her nipples. The stones heating with her body…

"Caroline," Elena snaps, tossing the jewels aside as if they'd been soaked in vervain. Caroline watches them skitter along the empty surface of her desk and fall to the floor. She grits her teeth and holds back the complaint she wants to make. That won't help, not right now. She shakes herself, looking up and taking in Elena's angry face. "Why is Klaus sending you a birthday present?" Elena demands.

Caroline shrugs, feigning nonchalance, with a slim hope that she'll be able to convince Elena to calm down and not make a big deal out of this. "Because he always does? Last year I got a microwave. Maybe he thought trying jewellery was safe since I didn't throw that one back in his face."

The mental picture, of her heaving the microwave at Klaus' smirking face, is an amusing one but sadly Elena does not seem to care. Her accusing gaze shifts to the corner where the microwave sits atop the mini fridge, "Klaus gave that to you? I used that!"

It's a struggle not to roll her eyes at how silly a statement that was. "It's just an appliance! What could he have possibly have done to it? And what would the point even be?"

"Klaus left!" Elena yells, ignoring Caroline's logic. "He's out of my life, why are you inviting him back in?"

Frustrated, Caroline throws up her hands. "I'm not! I've been talking to him for months and guess what, Elena? He's not in your life. He'll never be in your life, if I have anything to say about it. But he's in mine."

"Why? How can you do that to me?" Elena's voice has softened, her eyes turning wounded.

"I'm not doing anything to you!"

"Klaus is a monster. He…"

Caroline cuts her off, with a bitter laugh, "Seriously? I'm a monster. You're a monster. Damon's a monster. How many people have we killed? How many more, in a thousand years?"

"It's not the same," Elena protests.

Caroline sits down on her bed, a tired sigh escaping her, "Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't. We're vampires now. Our lives haven't been black and white for a long time."

Elena's silent for a long minute. "And if I asked you to stop talking to Klaus?"

"I'd probably do it," Caroline admits. "For a while. I don't think I could do it forever. Since forever could very well mean centuries."

Elena opens her mouth again, but Caroline keeps talking. "But, Elena, ask yourself. Had I asked you to do the same for me, had I asked you to cut Damon out of your life, would you have done that for me? If Bonnie had? If _Jeremy_ had?"

Elena shakes her head stubbornly, "Damon isn't Klaus."

"I still have nightmares," Caroline says quietly. "Of what he did to me when I was human. Not as often as I used to. But they happen. I shake them off and I endure his presence. Because I love you. And you love him. I'll never ask you to be in the same room as Klaus. You never even have to speak to him if you don't want to."

Elena's lips press together, and she seems to struggle, her hands balling into fists, "I'm not okay with this."

"You don't have to be. But it really, really, has nothing to do with you." Caroline wants to continue, has to bite down on the inside of her lip to keep from adding, 'and I'm sure that's difficult for you to process since you're so used to everything being about you.'

She tries so hard not to be petty anymore.

Elena leaves without another word, or a backward glance, the door slamming shut behind her. Caroline lets herself fall back into her bed, curls up and pulls her quilt up to her chin before muttering, "Happy birthday to me."

There's a knock early the next morning. Caroline groans, pulling a pillow over her head.

Going to bed without brushing her teeth, or taking off her makeup, had been a terrible idea and she feels disgusting. She does her best to ignore the person at the door but the knocking only gets louder. And then her phone starts to ring.

Ugh. This had better be life and death or Caroline was going to make it life and death.

Someone else's death.

Rolling out of bed and stumbling towards the door, Caroline only just manages to keep her fangs in when she throws it open.

Bonnie's on the other side, eyes widening when she takes in Caroline's appearance, "Wow. You look…"

A guy walks past Bonnie and he turns to leer at Caroline. She glances down, notes that her dress has ridden very high on her thighs, before she scowls and motions Bonnie inside, "Like death? Gee, thanks, Bonnie. Newsflash, I am dead."

Bonnie ignores her less than stellar mood, shoving a paper cup in Caroline's hand and pulling a bag out of her purse, "I brought coffee. And an extra bacon-y breakfast sandwich. Since I assumed you'd be hungover."

Caroline squints down at Bonnie, who looks remarkably fresh considering she'd basically had to be carried out of the bar last night, "Why aren't you?"

"I was. At 6 AM," Bonnie deadpans with a grimace, "when Elena woke me up. I've guzzled like a gallon of water, eaten and showered. I even went to class. So I'm good, now."

"Give me a minute," Caroline tells her, rifling through her closet for comfy clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. She should at least be comfortable for what was surely going to be a 'look at your choices, Caroline!' friendtervention.

She's quick, wanting to get the conversation that's coming over and done with, washing up and tying her hair back before changing into yoga pants and a sweater. She makes a beeline to the mini fridge, when she emerges, pulls out a blood bag and returns to her bed, leaning against the wall, "Alright, shoot. Judge me."

Bonnie shakes her head, a small smile playing about her lips. She bends, retrieving the necklace that Elena had tossed aside last night, holding it gingerly and throwing Caroline a glance as her eyebrows shoot up, "Wow. That's _some_ gift."

Caroline focuses on unwrapping her sandwich, keeps her voice light, "I'm pretty sure money means very different things to The Originals than it does to us."

The bed dips, as Bonnie settles next to Caroline, laying the necklace between them, "I'm not here to judge you. Not really."

Caroline's head snaps up, and Bonnie's watching her, expression almost sympathetic, "It's your life, Caroline. Your very long life. But I'm confused about some things."

"Like what?" Caroline asks warily.

"You told me Klaus said he'd walk away. Did he lie to you?" Bonnie's eyes have hardened slightly, a tinge of suspicion entering as she asks the question.

"I called him," Caroline tells her. "And I kept calling him. I told him it was okay to call me."

Bonnie deflates slightly, almost looking disappointed, "Damn. A little part of me was hoping he was being a manipulative dick and I could at least make his brain explode a little."

Caroline lets out a soft laugh, before taking a bite of her sandwich, "I told Elena that, as far as I'm concerned, Klaus is out of her life. And yours, and Stefan's. I get that you don't want him around, and I get why. I'm not going to force anyone into double dates and kumbaya."

"Dates?" Bonnie asks pointedly.

Caroline feels her face heat and she shakes her head, "I didn't mean it like that. We're not…"

Bonnie's watching her expectantly, and Caroline struggles to explain. "We're not together. But we don't exactly talk about the weather, you know?" Bonnie looks mildly confused and Caroline so does not want to spell things out. "Trust me, Bon," Caroline rushes to add, "You don't want to know the details."

Bonnie's nose wrinkles slightly, "I'm just going to stop thinking about why that might be. Right now."

"An excellent plan!" Caroline tells her, smiling widely. "And thanks. For being so unexpectedly cool with this."

"I don't get it. At all. But I trust you, Caroline."

Caroline feels herself grinning, half in relief and half so she doesn't start ugly crying with joy. She'd honestly never expected Bonnie to pick her over Elena so the news that she's not going to be shunned fills her with warmth. Caroline reaches over to pull Bonnie in for a hug, "You're the best, Bon."

* * *

 **Caroline [Thursday 11:17 AM]:** _Thank you. It's beautiful._

 **Klaus [Thursday 11:19AM]:** _You're welcome. Did you have a good birthday?_

 **Caroline [Thursday 11:20]:** _Mostly. Until Elena found the necklace. FYI envelopes are your friend._

 **Klaus [Thursday 11:21]:** _My mistake. I assumed you'd have more privacy, living alone. I'll endeavour to be more discrete. Unless this is you terminating our acquaintance, once again?_

 **Caroline [Thursday 11:22]:** _It's fine. Elena's just a nosy drunk, I guess. She's not happy with me, but that's not exactly earth shattering. I have to go to class. Can I call you this weekend?_

 **Klaus [Thursday 11:24]:** _Of course. Saturday?_

 **Caroline [Thursday 11:25]:** _Talk then! :)_


End file.
